


Magical Me

by bluemermaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:38:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemermaid/pseuds/bluemermaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An autograph from Gilderoy Lockhart warms more than one heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magical Me

Several students snickered when Gilderoy Lockhart sauntered through the door, but he paid them no mind, sitting down gracefully at a table near the bar. "Hello, everyone!" He shouted happily, waving eagerly to the crowd. "It's a lovely day, isn't it? I expect you're all thrilled to see me." And indeed, some of the younger girls did look rather awestruck, though most of the crowd just turned away awkwardly and began whispering quickly to their friends.

"Gilderoy?" A woman in Healer's robes rushed into the Three Broomsticks, looking rather harried. Breathing a sigh of relief, she rushed to Lockhart's side, seating herself clumsily across from him. "You mustn't go rushing off like that; you're going to get yourself lost. You don't know this area very well."

"Oh, I'll learn it soon enough," said Gilderoy, flashing a smile to Rosmerta, who had just walked up to their table. "Hello, there. I'm Gilderoy Lockhart!"

"I can see that," said Rosmerta, placing a couple of empty glasses upon the table. "What can I get for you?"

"A glass of your finest!" Gilderoy shouted, jumping to his feet; a wave of giggles swept through the bar again. Gilderoy looked around in confusion before slowly sitting back down. "Whatever that may be."

"You'll have to excuse him," said the Healer, leaning over the table to pat Gilderoy's arm. "He's still recovering from a bad memory charm, you see. We thought a little field trip might help trigger something."

"Ah." Rosmerta smiled. "A couple of butterbeers, then? Nobody ever forgets one of my butterbeers." She winked at Gilderoy and walked off.

"She's lovely, isn't she?" Gilderoy asked excitedly. "Did you see her smile? She must think I'm charming, eh? They always do." He sat up in his seat, beaming as he looked around in wonder. "Have I been here before?"

The Healer laughed. "Oh, a breakthrough already! Yes, Gilderoy, you used to teach at the school up the hill, remember? We're in Hogsmeade."

"Brilliant," said Gilderoy, clasping his hands together. "And look at all the young faces! The children do so look up to me, don't they? How marvelous, that I was given the opportunity to pass on my wisdom to some of them. I was very wise, wasn't I?"

"Certainly," said the Healer, as Rosmerta returned with a pitcher of butterbeer. "You were the best, Gilderoy, dear."

"Did you hear her?" Gilderoy asked loudly, grasping at Rosmerta's arm in his excitement. "She said I was the best." He grinned saucily. "And I was the best, I'm sure. Just look at how handsome I am!"

"My, aren't you excitable," Rosmerta replied, gently tugging her arm out of his grasp. She leaned over to pour for the Healer, speaking softly to her as she did. "He may have had his memory wiped, but he doesn't seem much different, does he? I remember a few years ago, when he was coming in here all the time on Hogwarts weekends; all he ever did was hang around the bar and boast about his various achievements. I could barely do my job with him hanging about."

"Oh ho, you miss the tales of my adventures, do you? Well, you're in luck, my lady!" Gilderoy opened his bag and pulled out a large, golden book. "I've got a copy of my memoirs! They tell me I wrote it, and it is pretty spectacular, so I must have penned the masterpiece!" He slammed the book onto the table, jostling the newly filled glasses so that butterbeer sloshed over the sides. "It's a very large book." He grinned cheekily. "So I must be quite the wizard, don't you think?"

"Oh, Merlin," said Rosmerta, whilst the Healer busied herself with mopping up the spilled butterbeer, muttering nervously to herself as she did so.

"Ah, but that's not all!" Gilderoy pulled an ink well from inside the bag and hurriedly checked his pockets for his quill. "I'll even autograph it for you, as a token of my unyielding affection for your appreciation of my greatness. And I've perfected my handwriting by now; it's first class!" He clumsily dipped the quill into the ink and opened the autobiography.

Rosmerta glanced around her, smiling knowingly at the snickering students sitting around them. "No, it's just as I said; he hasn't changed a bit."

"He's a sweet man, though, really," his Healer said quickly, her face slightly flushed, "though I know he sounds a little boisterous."

"Boisterous?" Rosmerta laughed heartily. "He's adorable, is what he is! Make that out to Rosmerta, darling, won't you?" She winked again at Gilderoy, who beamed back up at her before slowly beginning to write.

*****

Sliding away, Cho Chang made her way carefully through the room, her eyes darting about restlessly. She was nearly at the front of the tavern when someone slammed into her, pushing her against the wall. "Oh!" Cho turned her head to see who had so rudely shoved her. "Watch where you're going, please!"

The Weasley twins grinned in unison, which was slightly unnerving to the startled Cho. "Our deepest apologies, Miss Chang," said the boy on the left; he had a nice smile. "We can get distracted when we're in a rush, can't we, George?"

"Quite right, Fred," said the other twin, whose gaze did not exactly meet Cho's, but rather floated somewhere overhead.

Cho shook her head and frowned slightly. "It's all right, I suppose," she said carefully. "Only, just what are you doing in such a rush?"

"Ah, now that is the question," Fred replied eagerly, and Cho was sure of it; there was something in his eyes that wasn't present in the other. They weren't identical at all, now that she was closer. Fred leaned in, and Cho felt a rush of heat in her face that frightened her; she hadn't been consciously attracted to anyone since the Harry Debacle. "We're up to mischief, we are." Fred winked at her and leaned back, nudging his brother in the ribs. "Tell her, George."

George's smile wasn't quite as intense; he had a dreamy expression on his face. "It's nothing, really," he said, running a hand through his bright red hair. "We've only nicked a book from the bar."

"A book?" Cho's forehead crinkled in confusion, and the twins snickered, sharing a glance before turning their eyes back to the Ravenclaw. "What sort of book?"

"Only an autographed copy of _Magical Me_ ," Fred said, and he laughed loudly, drawing curious stares from those seated nearby. "I'm planning to sell it."

" _Magical Me_?" asked Cho, and she laughed, too, covering her mouth with her hand. "But, who would want that? Everyone knows Lockhart's history, don't they?"

"But that's just it, isn't it? This copy has been signed by the current, memory-addled-version of Gilderoy Lockhart." Fred pulled the book out and opened the cover, showing Cho the front page, which was covered in childishly-crude scrawl. "It's rare and, frankly, rather mad, I think. And I know there's a young witch out there mad enough to pay for it."

"It sounds like a terrible idea, actually," Cho said, but she was grinning; somehow she was charmed by this foolishly impossible scheme to make a few Galleons.

"Suit yourself, then," said Fred, shutting the book and handing it to George, who stowed it away in his robes. "You won't get your share of the money, then, will you?"

"Oi," said George, with a laugh, "who said we were handing out shares?"

"I think Miss Chang's worthy," said Fred, making Cho blush. "Or she would have been, if she hadn't decided it was a terrible idea. She's not worthy at all now, sadly enough."

"He's joking, really," said George, rolling his eyes and attempting to tug his twin away, but Fred stood firm, raising his eyebrows at Cho with a silly grin.

And Cho didn't mind at all; she grinned and touched Fred's shoulder, squeezing gently and offering up a wink of her own. "I think I'll find my own way of making money, thank you. Something a little more innocent is my style."

"You're missing out," said Fred, his smile fading slightly, and George quirked one eyebrow slightly as he studied his brother.

Cho shook her head and moved away, heading for the bathroom with a little smile upon her face. Who knew she could find hope in thievery?

*****

A large hand landed on Hermione's shoulder, and she gasped, wheeling about in shock. She'd been ready to scold Ron for startling her, but the words evaporated when she saw who had really accosted her. "Cormac! What do you want?" She was breathless, though she stubbornly accounted this to the shock.

"Hey, Granger." He was giving her that look again, that smug, knowing look which drove her mad. He held out a large wrapped package. "I got you a present."

Hermione stared, her mouth agape, and then a hot wave of embarrassment swept over her. "Oh, Cormac; I wish you hadn't." Slowly, she reached out and took hold of the gift. "I know I asked you to Slughorn's Christmas party, but I didn’t expect –." The anxiety was making it hard to speak. "I mean, I didn't think you'd --. Well, honestly, Cormac, it wasn't meant to be a date. I'm not your . . . we're not . . . well, you know." She coughed. "We're not dating."

"Open it," said Cormac, grinning madly, like he'd just won a Quidditch match. Hermione smiled weakly, cursing herself for thinking about Quidditch at a time like this, though it was only because the sport was all she'd ever heard Cormac talk about.

Hermione tore open the package and immediately had to struggle to hold her laughter, for Cormac McLaggen had given her Gilderoy Lockhart's autobiography. "Cormac, what is this?" She knew very well what it was; she still had her own copy from second year, hidden at the bottom of her trunk. She only asked because she had absolutely no idea what else she could possibly say.

Cormac shrugged casually, still smirking, his stance and expression quite obviously indicating his confidence. "I heard you liked the bloke. I've asked around about you." His grin faded, as he gazed intently into her eyes. "I wanted to make you happy."

Hermione was stunned. There she was, standing in the middle of the Gryffindor common room, holding a Gilderoy Lockhart book and receiving a compliment from Cormac McLaggen. She couldn't have come up with a more unlikely scenario if she'd tried. Swallowing, Hermione glanced around, thanking all the deities she knew that no one was around to see this. Despite herself, there was a warmth growing within her. "Thank you, Cormac," she said, averting her eyes. "This is a sweet gesture."

"But of course; I always know how to please the ladies," he said, the swagger back in his voice. He threw an arm around her shoulders and guided her towards the sofa. "Sit down and check it out; he's even signed it, you know."

And despite the fact that he was Cormac, despite the fact that she was Hermione, she reached up and planted a kiss on Cormac's cheek, her face flushing fiercely as she did so. Because it was the Christmas season, after all, and he'd asked around about her. So he couldn't really be all that bad, and when had Ron ever asked anyone what she might like for Christmas?

Cormac grinned down at her, and together they collapsed onto the couch. "I knew you'd like it," he said proudly, and Hermione finally burst into laughter.

"You are ridiculous, you know that," she said, grinning, and placed the book down beside her. It was lucky she hadn’t opened it, really, for the dedication to "Rosmerta" would certainly have spoiled her happiness just a bit. It was still the best five Galleons Cormac had ever spent; he would have to remember to thank those Weasleys later.


End file.
